War of elves
by Schattenjagd
Summary: <html><head></head>The relationships between Rivendell and Greenwood are strained. Over centuries, the mistrust grows, a war of elves seemingly unavoidable. When an injured woodelf ends up in Elronds healing ward, will it lead to war or will the two Realms finally grow closer together ...</html>
1. 1: A king in Rivendell

**Hey guys. Got a new fanfic :D Again, please tell me if you find spelling and / or grammer mistakes as english is not my mother language**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of Tolkiens work and I just borrowed some of the professors characters, but they belong to him and to him only.**

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><p>As much as Elrond hated to admit it: He was nervous. If he had have just an ounce less self-control, he would be pacing up and down in the courtyard. It had taken him ages to convince King Thranduil of the Woodland Realm of Greenwood to make the journey over the Misty Mountains to Rivendell in order to discuss further relationships between their two Realms. In the past they had barely talked with each other, Thranduil refusing to welcome anyone in his gigantic castle in the side of the hill in the midst of Greenwood the Great. Thranduil did not care what happened outside of his kingdom and he was busy with the increasing spider and orc attacks. He never cared what happened behind his borders and visits from other realms had always been rare. The last time Elrond had talked with the proud elf in person, they had ended up in a heated argument in which Elrond had said many things which should have remained unsaid. Thranduil's flaring temper had always been hardly controlled, and it flared up rashly with the unfounded insults Elrond had said in frustration and exhaustion. Their fight did quickly go out of hand. Since then the few messages shared between the rulers there written in distanced, formal language.<p>

Still, Greenwood was at peace and the King enjoyed his free time with his wife and their children. They had five children, as far as Elrond recalled. He did not even know all of their names. But how was he supposed to? It was not as if Thranduil had been sending letters informing him of their existence. Not even than Alcanor had been born, the king's eldest son and therefore heir to the throne of Greenwood. In the inside, Elrond was still furious about this fact. It was not as if something like that would not have been interesting for leaders of other Realms! Not just for him, but the king of the blasted wood had also not informed Lord Celeborn or Lady Galadriel. It had been Mithrandir who had told him one evening that the stern elven king had become a father a few years prior. But not even the wise wizard knew the exact age of the Prince. He would be around Elladan's and Elrohir's age, Elrond figured. A few years younger probably. His gaze wandered to the two figures of the twins who her pulling faces at each other in a vain attempt to stand still. He had sent Thranduil and Luineth a letter informing them of the twin's birth back then. The reply had been short and unsurprisingly it had come from Luineth and not her husband.

Secretly, Elrond wondered what kind of a father the stern elven king could possibly be. Seconds later he regretted his thoughts for he knew too little about the younger elf to judge him as a parent.

But maybe he would get a little insight today: Crown Prince Alcanor would accompany his father on this trip. Thranduil had at first refused to take his son with him, suspicious and untrusting as he was suspecting a conspiracy. It had needed all of the wise half-elfs diplomacy to make Thranduil even consider Elrond's suggestion to take Alcanor with him. Even so, in Elrond's opinion the king had agreed too quickly. And the elf might sometimes be annoyingly stubborn, but he was definitely not an idiot. He was a very intelligent man.

He had told Elladan and Elrohir over and over again, that they would not be allowed to prank anyone while King Thranduil, Crown Prince Alcanor and their bodyguard were staying in Rivendell. The twins seemed to understand, even though they had protested loudly.

Now the three of them were standing next to each other in the courtyard. Elladan and Elrohir had stopped their constant bickering after they had felt their father's stern gaze upon them. They were nervous too.

Erestor came to join them silently, his gaze wide awake like a hawks. He wore his fine reddish tunic which matched the golden one of Elrond and the noble brown ones of the twins perfectly. Glorfindel already stood a couple of meters away, dressed in his hunting garment. His long blond hair gave him an angelic look and his inner light glowed bright enough to make bystanders forget about the simplicity of his leather clothes.

Arwen was not in Rivendell, she was staying in Lorien with her grandmother. Celebrian had accompanied her.

The pleasant ring of a horn was heard through the warm air of the beautiful spring day. King Thranduil and his company were closing in. One more time Elrond straightened and shot a glance towards his two sons. Those were surprisingly nodding in agreement and looked ahead seriously. The elven lord sighed relieved.

Just then he spotted light getting reflected on metal armour. His eyebrows rose in discontent. King Thranduil was glad in a silver amour, two swords at his side. His long silver hair was floating in the breeze and the crown adoring his forehead was made of thorns and leaves interlaced into a metal frame. Soldiers in green metal armour where riding by their king's side, eyes watchful, faces almost entirely hidden behind helmets.

Added to the frown which was showing on his face, Elrond felt his body shudder. Seeing the elves of Mirkwood ready for battle was intimidating. Fear reached for his heart in an icy fist. The woodelves did not fight in steel armour. They fought in leather armour and with bows, hidden among trees. If Thranduil had decided to choose this garment, the relationships between their two Realms were a lot worse than Elrond had thought they were. This garment was only ever adored for war. An open war outside of the protective woods these elves loved so much. How could he have missed this?

Thranduil was the only one not wearing a helmet. Icy blue eyes met brown ones and the air stilled around the two lords. Guards led their horses over the bridge and positioned them at the sides of the courtyard. The king followed slowly, his gaze watchful and never leaving Elrond. By the Valar! What did this elf expect? Did he think Elrond would greet him with a sword in his hand? That the only reason he was asking the king to travel this way was to kill him? The distrust in these blue orbs hurt the healer almost physically. He had had the intentions to ease the straint between the two realms and only now noticed, that his old brother in arms was expecting the exact opposite.

"Mae govannen, King Thranduil", Glorfindel said and bowed, a smile on his lips. Thranduil nodded towards him.

He than turned to Elrond. He inclined his head slightly, bringing his right hand to rest just above his heart. His face was emotionless but Elrond still felt the distrust radiating.

"Mae govannen, King Thranduil", he greeted as well, repeating the gesture of the proud elf before him. "Welcome to Rivendell. It has been a long time. I hope your journey has been pleasant."

Finally King Thranduil dismounted. Two of his guards did as well and positioned themselves next to their king.

"It has been", Thranduil agreed solemnly.

"May I introduce you to my sons: Lord Elladan and Lord Elrohir. And of course you know Lord Erestor here."

"It is an honour to meet you, my lord. We have heard much about you", the twins greeted in unison, both bowing and showing their respect. Elrond smiled.

"I do not doubt that", Thranduil answered. No one missed the fact, that the King did not return the civilities but kept quiet.

"Where is your son, Thranduil? I have been looking forward to finally meet Prince Alcanor. Is he not with you?" Elrond asked. He did not know whether or not to be annoyed that Thranduil did obviously not bring his son along even though he had said he would. But at least he now knew why Thranduil had been so reluctant to even consider the thought: If the king saw the relationship of their realms at a brick of war, the healer's request Thranduil should bring his heir along with him would have sounded uncomfortably suspicious.

"The last time I checked a king was still allowed to change his mind", Thranduil answered quickly and coldly.

"Of course. I was just wondering", Elrond stated calmly, bowing his head. "My servants prepared rooms for you and your party. We will serve lunch in an hour time. We'd be honoured if you joined us, but if you prefer to rest first, your lunch can be brought to your rooms."

"Thank you. We will take your invitation and join your table", Thranduil exclaimed. "Could you lead the way?"

Elrond smiled and turned to show the king and his soldiers to their rooms. He caught Glorfindel's worried glance and nodded reassuringly. Luckily the balrog-slayer had organised for the rooms of the king and his arty to be close together. If it had been differently, it would have led to even more suspicious glances and awkward conversations.

Twenty guards had accompanied the king and they were now dismounting in the courtyard. Elladan and Elrohir offered their assistance and it was reluctantly taken.

"Your home is as beautiful as ever, Lord Elrond", Thranduil suddenly spoke up beside him. His step was proud and strong and his eyes were now trained on the beautiful gardens they passed. Surprised over the compliment Elrond did not know what to say.

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><p>Elrond looked up and down at the table. Almost all of Thranduil's soldiers were already seated, their helmets sitting on the floor next to them. They were conversing silently, here and there eyeing the Noldor elves. They were as mistrustful as their king and Elrond knew this would be a long couple of weeks. He had to be careful what to say and do, for the little trust the woodelves had for foreigners could easily be crushed.<p>

The doors opened and Thranduil stepped in, followed by the two guards who had not left his side so far. He was still glad in his armour, refusing to fall back to the more delicate kingly robes which usually adored his slim form.

Tensed silence filled the room. Elrond quickly stood, greeting the newcomer warmly and gesturing to the free seat next to his.

"We will need one more seat here", Thranduil demanded calmly. Astonished the healer stared at him. Luckily Glorfindel reacted more efficient. He stood and gestured towards the now free seat.

Thranduil nodded in thanks. He then turned to his guards and waved them away. One of them hurried towards the other end of the table, taking his helmet off and sitting down beside his comrades, whispering silently. The other elf however did not move away. Instead he reached up to pull the helmet off his head. Silver white hair fall down and a very young face was revealed. Even for an elf, the man was incredible handsome. Well, rather boy than man, for the elf could not be older than one thousand years – an equivalent to a thirteen year old human. Piercing silver eyes met Elrond's and Alcanor – his features left no doubt that this soldier was Thranduil's son – bowed slightly, a sneering and calm smile tugging at his lips.

He was so young. Too young to be wearing an armour. Too young to be carrying his weapons with the implicitness which with he did. He knew what he was doing. He seemed so grown up. The thought frightened Elrond. His sons were one hundred years this elf's senior but he still seemed so much older and wiser.

"Lord Elrond. I thank you for your invitation and I would appreciate it if you, your sons, Lord Glorfindel and the other Noldor present would stop staring at me, my Lord." This time a real smile spread across his features and Elrond felt his cheeks redden.

"Forgive me, Prince Alcanor. It is an honour to finally meet you. I was … surprised to see someone so young carry weapons."

Suddenly the bright silver eyes darkened and lost their amused sparkling.

"It is necessary", Alcanor stated, his emotions successfully hidden behind a mask of indifference. "Spiders and orcs do not ask for your age before charging. You might live save in your protected valley, Lord Elrond, but not all elves are lucky enough to have the protection of an artefact as powerful as the one you are bearing. In Greenwood every child needs to be able to defend themselves."

All Noldor and Lord Glorfindel stared at this young elf who had just uttered words they could hardly believe. The greenwood elves did not seem surprised. In their eyes Elrond could see agreement and determination.

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other. In their eyes stood the same disbelieve. This elf … he was creepy. They felt the silence like icy water.

"Maybe you could join Elladan and me on the training range this afternoon, Alcanor. I am certain you are more skilled than my idiotic brother is", Elrohir tried to lighten the mood.

"Hey!", Elladan yelled, leaning over to hit Elrohir's head. "You are the idiot, not me, Ro! I could squash you if I wanted to!"

Thranduil stared at the twins and raised an eyebrow towards their father. Elrond had turned pale. He did not know way but he spent a lot more time paling and staring than usually. Thranduil's behaviour intimidated even the grand elven lord for it was reminding him of the war were he first had got to know Thranduil. Since then he had changed, he was not the warrior he once was anymore. He had thought the king had changed as well. But he had not. The lean elf was still in his warrior modus and Elrond wondered, how dangerous that would turn out to be.

Suddenly Alcanor's dark, silent laughter cut through the continuing bickering of the twins. "I will join you, even though you will have to wear different outfits if I am supposed to be able to tell the two of you apart. You are worse than Daeros and Arahen!"

"I would rather you train your aim, Alcanor", Thranduil interfered and Alcanor silenced, looking to his father who was sitting down.

"I will, Adar. But I am sure I could spare an hour." He followed his father's example and took a seat.

"As long as you are still able to read the reports I gave you yesterday. I trust we will start with the negotiations tomorrow and you will have to have them read until then."

Alcanor nodded and bowed his head slightly. But suddenly his eyes shot up towards Elrond and the healer could see anger burning behind the bright orbs.

"Say this again and I will punch you in the face", he threatened darkly.

"Alcanor!", Thranduil's voice boomed loudly and his fist connected with the table. "One does not speak thus to a host, Alcanor!"

"But he said you were an awful father!", Alcanor yelled back. The room grew quiet and every elf stared at the two royals screaming at each other.

"He did not say thus, ion-nin. He thought it. And even if he did say it out loud, whether or not I am a good father does not reflect on my being a good king and as Lord of Rivendell that is the only thing he has any right to know about. Therefore, you do not need to threaten him with physical actions", Thranduil spoke more calmly now.

"The only way he could have drawn the conclusion you'd be a bad father would be through my behaviour as I am your son and my mistakes are the only hints he could possibly use to judge. As I do not recall behaving incredibly stupid or being incredible insulting his assumption of you being a bad father are completely unfounded. They are false!"

"But have you not just proven his point by behaving incredibly stupid because you heard one lie?", Thranduil asked calmly.

Alcanor stared at his father and all colour drained from his face. He jumped to his feet only to fall to his knees before his king.

"Forgive me, Adar, for I have dishonoured your name." His voice was shaking but loud enough to be heard by everyone.

"Get up!", Thranduil demanded and Elrond smiled for he had never heard the elvenking this annoyed.

Slowly the Prince stood and hesitantly took his seat.

"I think I should apologize", Elrond spoke up. "Both to you Thranduil, for I have clearly misjudged your parenting skill and your caring and love towards your son, as to you, Alcanor, for my thoughts seem to have brought you into this situation."

"Do not apologize, Elrond", Thranduil demanded coldly and shoot an angry glance towards his son.

The meals got served and drew everyone's attention away of the little outburst which had just occurred. Elrond was wondering how Alcanor could have been able to hear what he had thought. Judging by how Thranduil had told Alcanor that the words had not been said but thought, Elrond came to the conclusion that Alcanor had not purposely entered his mind, but had done it accidently. Apparently without even noticing it. How was that possible? His mind was guarded but he still had not noticed Alcanor's intrusion. A glance across the table showed him, that Glorfindel was deep in thought, obviously concerned by the same subject.

But now he focused on Thranduil who was silently eating.

"Tell me, my friend, how is your family? I must admit I do not know all of your children's names. I do not know how you survive five of them: I have enough trouble with three!"

"I have six children, Lord Elrond, and I am not your friend", the king replied calmly. "Alcanor is the eldest, Eyaenne is 115 years younger and my oldest daughter. Daeros is 305 years younger than Alcanor, Arahen 366. Daeros and Arahen are the closest together and they look so similar they are hard to differ by their looks. Iarith, my other daughter, is 500 years younger than Alcanor and Falin, my youngest just reached the age of 300 and is therefore 614 years younger than my eldest."

Elrond listend intently, careful to memorize the age and the names of Thranduil's children. He seemed to love them deeply for a faraway look had stolen itself into his eyes and was now quickly blinked away. Elrond pretended he had not seen anything.

"I take it Arwen and Celebrian are in Lorien?", Thranduil asked.

"Yes, they are staying there for the summer", Elrond agreed.

Silence grew between them and Elrond was glad to see Alcanor chatting easily with Elrohir and Elladan. He looked back to the elf next to him. He met blue eyes and realised Thranduil must have watched him. For one second the king stared back, then he got up and excused himself. Alcanor slowly stood as well. He bowed politly and took his helmet before following his father together with one of the guards who had jumped up as well.

This was going to get hard, Elrond sighed and leaned back. How should he gain Thranduil's trust? The coldness and the careful suspicion which surrounded the elven king gave him a headache and an idea, how great the problem ahead would be.

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><p><strong>Please Review!<strong>


	2. 2: Lost Trust

**Hello, mellon-nyn! Here the next chapter to my fanfic! I hope you like it. For those of you who are waiting for Legolas: He will appear in the next chapter, I guess, so stay tuned! I have the intention to update about every 2 to 3 weeks. But as I am currently on a camping trip in New Zealand, it might take a bit longer before I can give you the third chapter!  
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><p>It was hard. So very hard. Breathing heavily Elrond walked through the gardens, but this time he had no thought for the beauty around him. Thranduil just would not cooperate! No matter what he suggested, the elven king always found a reason why to refuse! The most annoying thing however was the fact that Alcanor agreed absolutely with his father. Elrond had hoped the young elf would ease his father's temper. And that he did but not in the way the healer had hoped for. He was so incredibly young and yet still seemed to know everything what was going on in his kingdom. He brought arguments forward which were impossible to refute. More than once Thranduil had just leant back and gestured for his son to continue the negotiations. The king would eye his boy sharply and here and there he would correct him with a soft voice, otherwise he let him handle himself. Elrond would never even dare trying to drag Elladan and Elrohir in one of his meetings. It would end in a disaster. But here sat this boy who look so much like his father with the same silver white hair and handled himself better than some of Rivendell's chancellors! His eyes sparkled silver as he focused on what was being said. Once he had turned to his father to ask him something and instead of losing his temper, Thranduil had just whispered the answer.<p>

Elrond shook his head. Glorfindel suddenly turned up next to him.

"Glorfindel! How can I help you?"

"Something against a headache would do", the mighty balrog-slayer joked without much enthusiasm. "I am already fearing we will never come to an agreement. Thranduil is too stubborn! He just doesn't care for anything outside his forest!"

"What do you think of Alcanor?"

Glorfindel looked at the healer. "I do not know. He is very controlled but he hides his feelings really well. I am a bit worried for him, I have to admit. I spent so much time with running after the twins because I let them pull one of their stupid pranks on me, that I do not like seeing someone so young being as serious and grown as he is. He appears to be a child of war, yet we are at peace and Greenwood is as well. I am wondering what caused him to become a soldier in his age. Thranduil seems to be very strict about his education."

"Maybe I should suggest he stays behind when Thranduil leaves."

Glorfindel looked surprised. "Why would you?"

"I do not want him to suffer under Thranduil."

"What makes you think he suffers? To me it seemed very much so that Thranduil loves his son deeply and trust him a lot further than I would trust the twins"

"He abuses him."

"Alcanor himself stated that this was false: That his father is a good Adar. He stood up for Thranduil after he heard you thoughts, without hesitation."

"What would have happened if he had not?"

"Nothing. Thranduil does not usually care what people think about him as long as they accept his authority. And that we did."

Before Elrond could answer their attention was drawn to the training fields nearby. The subjects of their thoughts were sparring with each other. Thranduil's swords clashed through the air, wielded elegantly in the fighting style so prominent among the wood elves. Alcanor had his knives drawn in defence. His moves came quickly, but he was no match for his skilled father. Thranduil brutally cut Alcanor down and a cry of pain escaped the young ones mouth as the blunt side of the king's sword connected with Alcanor's unprotected lower arm.

Elrond ran towards the child on the ground while Glorfindel grasped Thranduil and pulled him away. Only seconds later the greenwood-guards tore him away of their king, coldness and determination written in their eyes, their hands dangerously close to their weapons.

"Alcanor!", Elrond said worriedly.

"I am fine", the elf answered but took Elrond's helping hand to pull him on his feet and allowed the healer to examine his arm afterwards. It was not broken but it already started to swell.

"I will find you a bandage."

Alcanor looked at him with wide eyes, then he started to laugh loudly.

"You want to give me a bandage because of this little swelling? It will heal within a couple of hours. No need to act like a mother hen."

Elrond stared at him but accepted the young one's decision. Accusingly he turned to the king.

"Why did you do this? Why did you beat him up?"

"I rather he learns it from me than from an orc. I will not kill him, an orc will. If hurting my son is the price for his survival, I will do it and I will keep doing it."

"You could have easily broken his arm!"

"Do not be silly! I would never have hit him that hard!", Thranduil snarled back and the air seemed to sizzle with his mood.

"Maybe you should leave, Lord Elrond" Alcanor suggested quietly but with a silent plea. He wanted to avoid the confrontation. The healer caringly looked upon the child. He could not go. Not after what he had just seen!

"I cannot allow your father to harm you like he did, Alcanor. I will not leave."

"His arm is a bit swollen: No harm done" Thranduil said threatingly low.

"You will leave" the Prince insisted.

The healer laughed hoarsely: "Are you going to order me on my grounds?"

"If I have to."

"Maybe we should all go", Glorfindel suggested. "King Thranduil, I believe you have not yet seen the library, have you? Let me show it to you. Elladan and Elrohir surely will be delighted to show your son around and I believe Erestor was looking or you, Elrond. Lunch will be served in an hour."

Before Thranduil could say something, Alcanor stepped closer and fell to a knee.

"Please my king! I beg you to postpone our training." Elrond nearly pulled the elf back to his feet, but Glorfindel stopped him.

"I grant you your request."

Alcanor rose, but his father had already sheathed his swords and was following Glorfindel. The Prince rose and stared into Elrond's eyes.

"If it was not for Greenwood, I would have taken your insult as a reason to depart at this very moment. My father is not a bad Adar! Things are done differently in Greenwood than in Rivendell. Accept it. You have not seen Greenwood the Great in the last hundred years. It is growing darker. Spiders and orcs are closing in, our patrols get attacked more and more often. Elves die. My father might be a strict and a hard teacher, but he teaches me how to survive. A skill which obviously is not necessary in your valley. I understand that and I understand why your sons are so much freer than I am. I do not behold a grudge against you because you can live privileged. But maybe you should try to do the same and understand, that my father is a good father. I love him. And he loves me back and he hates it to do these things to me, but he has to. That is all what should count."

He abruptly turned around and locked at the twins.

"Lead the way!" he smiled, suddenly back to the happy self he usually presented them.

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><p>The entire rest of the day, Elrond could hear the boy's words ringing through his mind. He realised that there was nothing he could do for the young elf stood up for his father. Also, he wasn't even sure anymore if he was right.<p>

He had to force himself to keep his mind on the negotiations. One of the greenwood-soldiers was always present, but he never uttered a single word. Nor was it the same soldier every day. Glorfindel, Erestor, Lindir, Eranion and three other elves were presenting Rivendell, while Thranduil and Alcanor handled the greenwood matters all on their own.

"What do I need books for? I do not need books about healing, I need healers who can teach my elves. You know that the part of greenwood's population who are silvan or who are with Silvan roots will not trust words written down in a book, they will not even touch it. Knowledge is past on through spoken words in our culture."

"You are a Sindar" Eranion stated accusingly. "You should be better than them!" That was the wrong sentence.

Thranduil leapt to his feet. "Better? How could I be better? Since when are Silvan elves worse than other elves? Since then does our blood decide whether we are good or not? I married a Silvan woman, my children are half silvan, half Sindar! Do you want to suggest my wife is worth less than I am because of her blood? That my children are not as worthy as others? I am no better than them and I am proud to be able to say thus, as I respect their heritage, our heritage, for their culture has become to my culture as well. I am as much a king for the silvans living in Greenwood, as for the Sindar!"

His voice was booming through the still air, anger and disgust written clearly in his features.

Alcanor was holding him back and was now speaking quickly to his father. Only slowly he king was calming down.

But Eranion's expression was distorted into a grimace, a grimace of disgust and hatred. His hand wandered into the sleeve of his robe

Suddenly, Eranion leapt forward, a dagger catching the light of the sun and its acuteness aiming for Thranduil's chest. Alcanor saw the danger and reacted without thinking. He stepped between the weapon and his father.

"NO!" Thranduil screamed as the dagger found its mark. But Alcanor was smaller than the tall figure of the king. Instead hitting his chest, the dagger hit his unprotected neck, slicing easily through skin and flesh. Shock was written in the silver orbs as the elf went limp.

Elrond jumped forward, catching the falling figure and already leaning over the boy, who was spitting and coughing dark, crimson blood. Eranion was pulling the dagger back in shock, but suddenly determination entered his eyes and he raised his hand to bring the dagger down once more.

"NO!" the king screamed again, with so much panic in his voice that Elrond had nearly turned around. Thranduil grasped Eranion. Forgotten were the two swords attached to his hip, forgotten were the daggers hidden in his armour. He was acting on pure instinct and he had to protect his son! His fist connected with Eranion's face. Once, twice, thrice. Glorfindel kicked the dagger out of Eranion's hand and the wood elf guard brought the attacker down, terror written in his eyes. He brutally forced the council member on the floor. As soon as Thranduil saw that Glorfindel and his guard could take care of the attacker, his full attention was drawn towards his son. He saw Elrond leaning over the body of his oldest. He saw the blood surfacing between Elrond's fingers which were desperately pressed on the wound. He saw how the healer closed his eyes.

"Get off him!", he yelled and pulled Elrond back.

"Thranduil, no! Let me help him!" the healer already yelled while falling backwards. Alcanor would not survive without his help. Alcanor needed his help, for he was the only one with healing powers strong enough to save him now.

The king skidded to his knees next to Alcanor. His hands came down on the wound and before Elrond could reach him, he was suddenly thrown back. A bright light was pressing heavily on his chest and stopped him of breathing. The bright light surrounded Thranduil and the elves present realised it was the man's aura, as visible as never before. Pain crossed the fair features as the king somehow took his aura and pressed it into his son. Elrond gasped. Never had he seen anything like it. Thranduil was sustaining his son's life with his own energy. It was not in the way Elrond used his aura to heal his patients. The elven king must be extremely powerful to be able to do what he did. It would have failed had he done it with someone else but his own children, but now, Alcanor's form was sucking the energy inside like a sponge would water.

The doors opened and the wood elves stormed in, glad in their heavy armour, their weapons in their hand. Shocked expressions entered their faces as soon as they spotted their hurting prince and how their king was fighting for his live. Their shock changed into anger and they made use of their weapons. Quickly Glorfindel uttered an order to stay calm and luckily all the council member's obeyed. Elrond could barely feel the cold metal of a sword pressing against his bare neck. He was too focussed on the two elves in front of him. He subconsciously raised his arms to show his defeat, but his attention did not shift.

Thranduil's shoulders slumped down in exhaustion but he kept on pressing his energy in the limp form before him. Terror was in his eyes as he looked down into the silver counterparts of Alcanor. Slowly, Life seemed to return into them. Tiredness mirrored in the bright orbs but the pain vanished more and more.

"It is enough, Ada!", Alcanor whispered with a thin smile. Thranduil finally stopped. His body fell forward and only in the last moment he could catch his weight with his hands. Silver blond hair fall down over his shoulders, were playing around Alcanor's face from above. Alcanor smiled, then he closed his eyes and let exhaustion take his consciousness away. But his heart kept beating and the blood stayed in his veins. His chest rose and fall slowly.

Tiredly Thranduil rose his head. Once his eyes found Elrond, anger blazed up in his eyes.

"Was that your plan, Lord Elrond?" he spat out vigorously. "To lull us in security so you could finish us off?"

"Thranduil, I assure you I had –"

"Oh, shut up! We both know you are lying! Give me one good reason to not go to war, Elrond!"

"Because lives would be lost. Innocent lives!"

"MY SON IS INNOCENT! He is barely 954 years old and your assassin nearly stabbed him to death!"

"Thranduil I swear on the lives of my family I had nothing to do with this! I had never planned to harm either you, your son, your people or your realm! Please you must believe me!"

Elrond's words did not manage to calm Thranduil down, but at least he did not order the wood elves to attack.

Instead he picked up the lifeless form of his son. He swayed as he stood, but found his footing quickly. However, his tiredness was written clearly in his eyes but it did not hide his determination, anger and wil.

"Prepare the horses! We will leave in ten minutes", he ordered one of his soldiers quietly. He ignored the Noldor elves than he turned around and carried his son outside. The greenwood soldiers followed him carefully, their eyes never leaving their new found enemies.

Elrond suddenly felt incredibly tired. He stumbled backwards and fell on his chair. All his hopes to come to a better understanding and to improve the relationships between Rivendell and Greenwood had been crashed within few minutes. He found himself staring down at his hands. His hands, which were covered in red-silvery blood of the young elfling. He felt dirty. He should not have the blood of someone so innocent and young sticking to his skin. Anger rose in him, an anger he had not felt since the Great War had ended. His head rose and his eyes fell on the figure lying on the floor, currently being supervised by Glorfindel who was shaking in disbelieve as he stared down at Eranion, the elf who had betrayed everything Elrond and Rivendell stood for: Freedom, safety and brotherly love.

"Get him out of my sight", Elrond ordered, knowing that at the moment he was unable to make any decision concerning the perfidious elf. He noticed that a small part of him kept wondering why Thranduil had not ordered his soldiers to kill the man who had harmed his eldest. Or to why Thranduil had not taken the elf with him to throw him in one of his dungeons.

"I was right to do it!" Eranion spat. Elrond looked down at him and enquiringly raised an eyebrow.

"I did what you should have done! Those greenwood elves – they are wild beasts! Savages! They do not know about art and poetry, about proper behaviour and elegance. All they care about is killing things! No Noldor should have to be around such beasts! They are beneath us!"

The normally peacefull healer could not take more than that. His lashed out and the ring Valya on his hand marred the face of the elf before him. His blue eyes widened.

"You disgust me, Eranion!" Elrond said silently and waved for Glrofindel to take care of the traitor. He himself finally caught his senses and hurried after Thranduil, his elegant robes once more proving how unpractically they were.

He nearly run out in the courtyard only to find arrows pointed on his chest. All of the greenwood had already gathered. Indeed they were already mounting their horses. Elrond's wise eyes found Thranduil who was sitting tiredly upon his noble steed, an proud animal with fur as black as a starless night. Alcanor's limp body was in his arms, leaning heavily against his chest. Worriedly the healer noticed that the boy's eyes were tightly shut in exhaustion and the king did not seem well either.

"Thranduil!"

The king's head whipped around and his crystal blue eyes were cold.

"What more harm do you want, Elrond, half-elf!"

"Please! I swear I had nothing to do with Eranion's attack. Stay for the night and find some rest. Let me tend to your son. Let us speak tomorrow when we are rested!"

"So you can murder me in my sleep? You are lucky I have not yet declared war! Do not press this luck!" And with that, the elven king ordered his company to leave and the horses galloped over the bridge an left Rivendell and the hidden valley.

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><p><strong>Uiui, so quite a bit happend here :D<strong>

**_Please Review!_ It is highly appreciated**


	3. 3: I am Alcanor

**I am sorry it took so long to update guys. But I am in New Zealand right now and I was busy climbing Mount Doom and Camping at the Lake of Laketown with the Lonely Mountain in the Background. :D I did not have Internet Access which is way it took so Long.**  
><strong>I had intended to get Legolas in here, but as you will see, I did not. I had to figure out there I wanted to go with my Story and I changed my plan a bit. Legolas won't be in the next chapter, but I promise he will be in the one after that!<strong>

**I am not completely happy with this chapter, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. I still like it.**

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><p>After the awful incident, Elrond tried his best to re-establish relationships with Greenwood. But his letters were ignored and when he send representatives, they ended up to stay in Thranduil's dungeon for a month before being provided with provisions and sent back to Rivendell with a very short letter from the king noting that any further intrusion of Noldor elves into Greenwood territory would end in a declaration of war.<p>

He would regularly send another letter, telling Thranduil about the situation in Rivendell and the Golden Wood, offering help and expressing his hopes for a future meeting. If his letter were even received or read he did not know. The years passed without knowledge from Greenwood. But whispers started to rise, whispers of a growing darkness. Men told stories about the wood elves fighting off horrible creatures, stories of giant spiders being spotted in the wood which was now unprotected for the woodelves had drawn back their borders. Villages of men close to the darkening wood were burned down, the inhabitants slaughtered. Even though Thranduil had never cared what happened beyond his borders, through defending his territory he did ensure the safety of nearby villages as the orcs were killed off by elven warriors before getting the chance to loot and kill men.

This fact worried Elrond deeply and Glorfindel began leading long term patrols east of the Misty Mountains. Carefully avoiding Greenwood itself, he and his elves hunted orcs.

Elladan and Elrohir begged their father for years to let them join one of these patrols, but the wise half-elf refused, saying they there not prepared enough yet, not grown up enough. The twins lost some of their lightheartedness and they always listened closely for news of Greenwood. Even though they had not spend much time with Prince Alcanor, they had liked the younger elf. After the attack on the greenwood Prince they had been withdrawn and they had intensified their fighting lessons.

"Elladan, Elrohir", Elrond called out to them as they were sparring on the training field. Surprised, for their father never dared to interrupt them, the twins lowered their weapons and looked at him.

"Your last patrols have been very successful", Elrond started. The identical elves looked at each other and rose an eyebrow in a perfect impression of their father. Why was Elrond telling them things they knew already? They had not done anything wrong, had they? They had come back unharmed, not even scratches.

"Yes, Ada", they replied and their curiosity was shown in their sparkling eyes.

"I have talked with Glorfindel. He thinks the two of you might be ready for a long term patrol." The twins stared at each other, than they returned their focus back to their father.

"What do you think, Ada? Will you let us go?" Elladan asked carefully, expecting a negative answer.

Elrond sighed. "I trust Glorfindel's judgement. If he says you are ready, you are. I will let you go, but you have to promise me, to obey him, no matter how much you want to disobey. Is that clear?"

The twins nodded hastily.

"I do not want anyone to get killed, you are to respect the other soldiers and do as you are told. If they say hide, you hide! Do not venture on your own, keep an eye on each other. You will have a week to get ready. Please ask Glorfindel for help if you are not sure what to take, you will have to move quickly and therefore pack light. He has crossed the mountains many times and knows better than any other what you will need. The patrols leaves Rivendell with first light and will consist next to you of thirty other elves. Glorfindel will lead the patrol, obviously, with the two of you as seconds in command."

"We will", Elrohir promised.

"Yes, we will. Thank you Ada!" Elladan added and hugged his father. "We will be careful, I promise. And if that thick-headed excuse of an elf who happens to be my twin forgets it, I will remind him." He skilfully dodged the fist of his brother which was aiming for his stomach.

One week later the twins stood in the courtyard next to Glorfindel, both dressed in their heavy armour. Glorfindel seemed like an angelic warrior who had just stepped out of one of the history books Elrond stored in his library. His long blond hair was floating in the wind and softly entangling itself with the silver engravements in his chest plate. He stood proudly and patiently waiting for Elrond to allow them to go. The half elf went to his sons and hugged them tightly.

"Be careful", he said and then nodded towards the ancient elven lord.

"Let's go!" Glorfindel announced and waited for the twins to join him.

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><p>Elladan and Elrohir found their roles in the patrol quickly, learning from their comrades. They had known many of them already and they got along with all of them. Glorfindel taught them how to lead the group and kept them busy with scouting.<p>

They crossed the pass without any major problems. They did encounter orcs, but the pack was small and they killed them off easily before continuing their path. As soon as they reached the eastern side of the mountains, they began searching for orcs while closing in on the darkening borders of Greenwood the Great.

"Glorfindel!" Herion came running towards them. His hair was loose and his braid was unable to hold it back which caused it to stick on his sweaty forehead. The Noldor had been scouting and no one had expected him to be back already. He ran as if he was pursued by a giant pack of orcs.

"Yrch!" he breathed heavenly. Apparently he was pursued by a pack of orcs.

"How many?" Glorfindel asked alarmed, for Herion would not have come running unless the orcs were following him already.

"Two hundred … at least! They were hiding among the trees of a small forest. I thought it was still under the control of the woodelves, but they have abounded this place. I am sorry, I shouldn't have closed in! I thought the elves might be in trouble, but if they have stayed, they are all dead now."

"Two hundred?" Glorfindel breathed surprised and shocked. "We cannot handle two hundred. Pack up, everyone! How far are they, Herion?"

"An hour? At most!"

"Okay, guys, hurry up! Get your things, I wonna go and I wonna go now! Is everyone awake? Yes, all right, let's go. We head east!"

Elladan and Elrohir run over to Glorfindel and stayed by his side while running east. It was dark so dark that even their elven sight seemed to fail them. Tiredness was clinging on their feet like heavy stones making each step a challenge on its own.

The orcs slowly caught up with them and even though the twins had been in fights before, they had never been as afraid as they were now. They were far away from Rivendell and no help would arrive. Glorfindel suddenly froze in his steps and Elladan bumped into him. Elrohir subconsciously reached out to steady his twin.

"Yrch!" whispered Glorfindel and even in the dark they could see that the mighty balrog slayer had paled. The patrol had been so busy running away from one massive pack of orcs they had not noticed they were heading towards another pack of these foul beasts.

Glorfindel turned to the twins.

"I am sorry, Elladan, Elrohir! I should not have allowed you to come. I am sorry!" With these words he pulled his sword out and yelled orders. Within minutes the patrol had formed a circle, their faces set in stone and only their eyes which blinked in the dark showed their fear.

The air was filled with the sound of hundreds of feet, heavy boots thumping down on the hard ground.

Screeches sounded in the dark and bodies moved towards them. Heavy swords clashed forwards and the elves found themselves in a deadly quarrel. Elrohir pulled Elladan closer while he ducked underneath a blade, slashing his own sword and beheading the massive orc in front of him. He felt how Glorfindel was pushing a dead body in the crowd next to him, giving him the chance to smash his sword in another orc who got distracted. Elladan freed himself of his brother's protective embrace and flung himself skilfully into battle. Blood, dark and crimson, cold mud, bits of gras, flesh, swords, blades, screams filled the ear and heart in the ears of the beautiful people.

Glorfindel screamed with anger as he saw Herion fall under the mace of a giant orc. Elladan killed the orc and kneeled down next to the limb body, trusting his twin to protect him.

"Get him back!" Glorfindel ordered harshly and Elrohir trough him a scared look before pulling Elladan to his feet while fighting with his free arm. Elladan turned around to face the battle once more. All colour drained from his face as he realised that Herion was not the only one who had fallen. Only twelve of them there still on were feet. Two dark form were kneeling between them; Elladan could hear someone coughing and he did not need any light to realise that he was coughing dark blood.

The twins joined the remaining patrol in the circle. They were not afraid anymore. They were not angry or determined. They could not feel the aching of their muscles or the pain in their hearts. The mud wasn't cold and slippery against their skin anymore. All warmth had escaped their bodies. They felt like empty shells and all they could do was to continue fighting.

Feriell fell and the circle shrunk to only seven elves. Elladan dragged the two wounded back, knowing he was fighting a lost battle for their lives. His hand sought and found the free hand of his twin and their fingers enlaced. Neither was able to tear his eyes off their enemies. In the next moment, Elladan screamed and fell to his knees, a sword having sliced his right arm.

Darkness closed in and took all what was left of the elven light. Tears streamed down Elrohir's face and he closed his eyes expecting the deadly stroke to come.

But it did not come. Several seconds passed before his brain understood what he heard. The _whishh_ of arrows flying through clear night air and the distinctive song of bow strings which were being released. The beautiful music of sharp blades moving swiftly through air before meeting and slicing through flesh and bones with a horrible sound.

He carefully cracked an eye open and he was not met with the sight of awful orcs, but he saw slim, tall figures moving through the dark; the blades in their hands catching the fade moonlight which had suddenly broken through the thick blanket of the clouds above. He felt his knees buckling and he fell down next to his brother's form, his hand still clutching onto Elladan.

Within minutes the remaining orcs were slaughtered. The twins found themselves next to Glorfindel who had not lowered his weapon and was eying the new elves with care.

One elf with silvery white hair scathed his sword after yelling some orders. He turned and Glorfindel was met with two bright silver orbs. The elf was clad in a brownish leather armour which did not restrict him in his movements. The armour did not hide his well musculared arms and his broad chest. His clothing and the very way he had fought and the way he was now standing opposite Glorfindel showed the balrog slayer that this man was one of the woodelves of Greenwood.

The other greenwood soldiers silently assembled around their leader who did not move an inch but was eying Glorfindel with patient. He waited in silent. A sound of pain escaped Elladans lips as Elrohir took his injuried arm carefully. With the sound, Glrofindel attention shifted slightly. He slowly lowered his weapon.

"Would you accept our assistance?" the foreign elf leader asked with an ironical smile tugging on his lips. The balrog slayer could only nod. The greenwood elf gestured for his soldiers to step forward and provide help and the elves came closer and kneeled next to the injured. Their faces did not show what they were thinking. Even if they had, the darkness of the night would have hidden it successfully.

"What are Noldor doing this close to Greenwood, Lord Glorfindel?" the leader of the wood elves asked gently while his soldiers took care of securing the area and the disposal of the bodies as well as the well-being of the survivors.

"We were on our way to the Golden Wood when we got attacked by orcs. I had not realised they have driven us so far east", Glorfindel lied.

The other elves eyes narrowed. "Do not lie to me, Glorfindel! We have known the Noldor were patrolling this area for the last two decades. Do you think we are unable to handle the problems within our kingdom? Whatever it is, Noldor are not welcomed here. You should never have come. The only reason why we have not yet interfered was that you did not get in our way." He stared down at Glorfindel and proved hereby a very strong will, for not many could stare into the mighty balrog slayers eyes. "We will help your patrol and care for your wounded. You will enter the wood with us. And as soon as you are fit for the travel, you will leave Greenwood and you will not come back patrolling our borders. Any further disturbances will be treated as a threat."

"Who do you think are you, Elfling?" Glorfindel lost his wits. He was here because he was bloody trying to help these thick headed woodelves! He was risking his damn life to defend their territory and all he got was defiance? This elf was barely older than the twins for crying out loud! The bodies of the elves who had died to help this darkening forest were lying on the ground around them, covered in blackish orc blood!

The elf, who had been about to turn away, slowly rose his eyes to meet Glorfindel's. An angry fire was burning in them and his elvish glow intensified with his anger.  
>"I am Alcanor Thranduillion, Prince of Greenwood. You might remember me. I have learned to never trust Noldor!" he spat the last word as if it was an insult. "You nearly killed me for no reason. It is impossible to forget scars which are so visible, don't you think, oath-breaker? You can consider yourselves lucky that we seem to value a life high enough to step in if it is endangered even if it is the life of someone who is our enemy too. I will not allow Noldor to enter Greenwood unless it is necessary. All bonds of friendship were broken with your disloyalty!"<p>

Now Glorfindel was able to see the jarred scar across his neck and he knew that in this case he had uttered the worst possible words. But before he could say something, Alcanor had turned away. Glorfindel felt a sting in his heart as he saw how the Prince kneeled into the mud next to one of the wounded and pressed his hands onto the bloody wound in the elf's stomach.

Glorfindel quickly realised that his people were all cared for, so he turned and went to the twins. A she-elf was kneeling in front of Elladan, her dark, curly hair hold back with a leather strap. Her body was strained as if she expected an attack at any moment. Carefully she held Elladan's hand, her eyes wandering Elrohir's weapons every few seconds. She raised her eyes to see who was coming and Glorfindel recognised the bright silver colour. Her eyes and Alcanor's eyes seemed to be the same. This must be Eyaenne, Thranduil's oldest daughter and second child. She was a beauty. The skin tight body armour revealed her muscular and yet feminine frame. Her porcelain skin seemed to glow in the dark and her elegant eyebrows only intensified the natural shine of her silver eyes.

It took two hours to stabilize the wounded. Glorfindel helped as much as he could, but the battle had exhausted him as well and soon he found himself lying on top of several blankets next to the twins and some wounded who had been tended to already. His eyelids almost shut in a tight sleep he did not notice how the woodelves worked relentlessly. They burned the carcasses of the orcs and buried the bodies of the elves. Of the thirty elves who set out, fifteen were dead. No one was uninjured and it was only due to the woodelves hard work that the six heavily wounded elves who had lain among the dead were still alive.

The woodelves carefully lifted the sleeping and the wounded onto stretchers and made their way to the close trees of the Great Forest.

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><p><strong>Please Review! It is highly appraciated!<strong>


	4. 4: Greenwood the Great

**Hello guys! Here is my next chapter. I love this one and I hope you will to! I would appraciate PMs or Reviews, especially seeing how many People are following this Story compared to how many Reviews I got. Those Reviews DO help me a lot guys, through both giving me Inspiration and Motivation to continue my Story.**  
><strong>Enjoy!<strong>

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><p>Elrohir woke up to a soft voice singing beautiful ballads. Sluggishly he opened his eyes.<p>

"Ei Valar!" he murmured. "Are this Mandos' halls? Never have I seen an elleth as beautiful in Middle-earth!"

The singing stopped and the she-elf sat up straighter, her silver orbs shining calmly.

"You are not in Mandos' halls. These are the wise trees of Greenwood the Great, one of the most ancient forests in all Middle-earth" she replied with an air of pride accompanying her voice.

"What happened?"

"We saved you after you got attacked by orcs. You were without consciousness for two days, even though your wound was not poisoned. Unfortunately not all of your group are that lucky."

"My brother -!" Elrohir panicked, starting to get up.

"- will be fine!" finished the elleth his sentence and pressed him back down onto the blankets. "He got a deep slash on his arm, but we have cleaned, stitched and bandaged it and his body is already fighting the poison. My brother is good healer, he mixed all the necessary herbs. Do not fret, for he will live."

Somewhat relaxed Elrohir followed the pressure of her hand on his chest and lied back down.

"Thank you!" For a moment all he did was to stare into the sky, which was almost completely hidden behind rustling big leaves. Suddenly he realised he was not lying on the ground, but on a wooden platform high in the trees. His stomach told him that he was not too fond of this fact. He quickly tried to lead his thoughts elsewhere.

"I am Elrohir", he introduced himself somewhat weakly.

"I know" the elleth answered without looking up. He followed her gaze and understood she was fletching her arrows. A pile of silver arrowheads lied next to a pile of feathers and the wooden shafts.

"Nice arrows" he tried to compliment her.

"I do not care about whether my arrows are nice, half-elf. They have to be deadly, for that is their purpose." She seemed to be completely uninterested in him for her voice was calm and soft.

"Well, they are nice as well" Elrohir pondered. When she did not react, he slowly rose to his elbows. This time her eyes wandered to him, her gaze sharp and awake. Slowly, she took her utilises and moved further away.

"The healer will be here soon to have a look on your wound" the wood elf suddenly said.

"Ugh, thank you. And thank you for saving us as well."

Before she could answer, another wood elf suddenly leapt onto the platform. He smiled softly and kneeled down.

"Princess Eyaenne" he said before raising. "Your brother, Crown Prince Alcanor, wishes to speak with you. Lord Elrohir, it is good to see you awake. How are you feeling?"

Elrohir caught himself before he could stare at Princess Eyaenne too much and replied: "Fine. A bit dizzy, but fine. How is my brother? I want to see him!"

"He is just behind you" Eyaenne noted with an amused ring in her voice while she got back on her feet, collected her arrows and then left the platform. She leaned closer to the new elf and whispered something in his ear.

Elrohir had turned immediately and indeed, Elladan was lying not too far away on blankets, his weapons, armour and outer clothes carefully piled up next to him. Just now Elrohir noticed that he as well was only clad in a soft shirt and long trousers.

Fresh crème had been spread over Elladan's wound and the other twin figured, that the reason why the Princess had been here in the first place was because she had been looking over them. And she had not been alone, Elrohir realised as a tall wood elf with long straight hair of a bright nut brown colour nodded towards him. The elf was standing close to the edge and he seemed casual, even though the bow around his shoulder and the quiver filled with long arrows on his back.

Tiredly, Elrohir crawled over to his brother. He was not as skilled in the arts of healing as his twin, but he knew from a quick glance that the greenwood healers apparently had known what they were doing, for he remembered seeing very similar treatments practised by his father. Content to be alive and to know his brother was safe, he took his hand, turned to lie on his side and quickly fell asleep.

Eyaenne sprang over the branches with ease, heading towards the commanding flat. Her senses were awake and she softly laughed about the trees who were whispering light songs into the fresh air. She had been anxious for the last couple of hours: She did not like sitting next to the wounded Noldor. Whenever she looked at them, all she could think about was how they had tried to kill her brother. The memories of how her father had come home with Alcanor slumped in his arms and himself staggering of tiredness still burned in her mind. It had been so close, so scaringly close.

Alcanor had told her everything about his visit at Rivendell after he had had years of recovering. He had told her about how he had been enjoying spending time with the twins and marvelling the beauty of Rivendell's gardens. But nearly getting stabbed to death had made him distrustful of anything what had happened before the attack. The Princess new all too well that her brother was somewhat … confused. He did not exactly know how to handle the Noldor. Especially the twins, for he did not know, whether he should think they had been part of the deceive and had known about the planned attack on him and King Thranduil or not.

Eyaenne jumped onto the platform without making so much sound as a soft _thump_. Alcanor turned around to her and smiled shortly.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I need you to take command here. The scout has spotted a spider nest nearby and I want to clear the area before the Noldor get fit enough to cause more trouble."

"I will. How many elves do you need?"

"I do not want to leave you with the Noldor outnumbering you. Therefore I will take twenty of our soldiers. Will the remaining twenty elves suffice or do you want me to get some backup?"

"Eight of the Noldor are too heavily wounded to do anything but sleep. I doubt the other seven will be much of a trouble. I will keep a close eye on them."

"Do not underestimate them, Eyae! I do not want to see you hurt. Be ever watchful, for they will try to lull you in security before they will thrive their dagger in your back." Alcanor pulled his little sister into a tight embrace and the Princess could feel him shaking. He truly was scared, even though he hid it successfully towards anyone but her. He softly kissed her temple, before pulling back. He placed his hands on her cheeks and looked into her silver eyes which mirrored his own perfectly.

"Please be careful! I would never be able to forgive myself if these Noldor harmed you" he whispered, before he turned away. The next moment he was silently giving orders while simultaneously fastening the leather straps of his body armour.

Soon after, Crown Prince Alcanor left the post with twenty soldiers. They leapt into the trees and the ancient entities protected them from sight. Meanwhile Eyaenne made sure she got all the information she needed. Scouts were send out with the order to report back to her instead of her brother and she asked for all the information she could get about the condition of the Noldor. So far Lord Elrohir and one other elf were the only ones to have woken up which was no surprise for the Noldor had been completely and utterly exhausted.

Roewen came running towards her several hours later. Eyaenne tore her gaze from the maps in front of her and faced the older elf.

"Lord Glorfindel is waking up, Princess!" she told her quickly. Eyaenne cursed. An action which earned her a reproachful look from the wood elf. Eyaenne groaned. She wasn't even allowed to curse, for crying out loud! _As a Princess you are representing Greenwood the Great. Which means: No cursing, iell-nin, no matter how much you want to,_ she heard her father's slightly amused voice ringing in her head. She growled again.

The next moment her thoughts were back on the ancient elven lord. She felt how her chest constricted and her breathing become a bit laboured. She was not up for this! Alcanor was meant to be back when Glorfindel woke up! She couldn't do this! Not alone anyway. What if she made a complete fool of herself? What if she could not show Glorfindel that he had no power in this Wood?

She pulled herself together. She was a Princess, for fucking sake! The daughter of the mighty elven king Thranduil! She was not afraid. She took another deep breath before she turned her attention back to Roewen who was looking at her with concern.

"Bring me to him. Erandil, Saniell, come with me!" she ordered the two elves who had been standing around the map with her.

They followed Roewen through the trees until they arrived at the platform on which Glorfindel was lying. It was not far and they reached it within a minute.

The elven Lord apparently had just woken up for he was just jumping on his feet and shouting then Eyaenne arrived.

"Lord Glorfindel", she greeted with what she hoped was irony in her voice. "What has happened that you have to yell and scream like a child disturbing the peace of these woods?"

The elven lord's face turned red with her words and Eyaenne smiled to herself, proud of her choice of words and how they hid her fear.

"I demand to speak with Alcanor!" Glorfindel bellowed.

Eyaenne rose her hand to silence him.

"You are in no position to _demand_ anything, Lord. And my brother, _Crown Prince_ Alcanor," – she stressed his title – "has better things to do right now than to babysit you. Unfortunately, that has become my job, so, how can I help you?" she stated calmly.

Lord Glorfindel trembled with anger, but his voice was icy cold than he spoke.

"Where are my weapons?!"

Eyaenne rolled her eyes about such a stupid question. This only seemed to anger the elf in front of her more, which was understandable. But the Princess had thought this elf to be intelligent and, well … his weapons were stored on the table just behind him, together with his armour. Alcanor had not been so stupid to take the Noldor their weapons and therefore make them Greenwoods prisoners. No reason to yell at the people who had just saved your life, really.

"Behind you" Eyaenne scowled annoyed. "Is this why you had to yell around? Because you couldn't use your eyes?"

To her amusement, the ancient lord flushed. He would deny it if anyone would remind him of that, but he indeed did flush. He slowly controlled if something was missing and found, that everything was at its place.

"Forgive me" he forced himself to say. "I should not have made false accusations." There was a silence in which the two parties just stared at each other.

"It is an honour to finally meet you, Princess Eyaenne. Could you please tell me, how are my men?"

"Six of your elves are still in danger: We do not know if they will live. Our healer's do all they can. Lord Elrohir and one other elf have woken up, but they fell back asleep. I expect the others to wake up soon, but we had given them some sleeping drugs before allowing them to sleep so they could do so without dreams. It will depend on their individual condition when they wake up."

"May I see them?" Glorfindel asked carefully.

"To change what?" Eyaenne inquired harshly, but directly after the words left her mouth she closed her eyes to take a deep breath. She had taken it over the line and she knew it. Of course the elven lord wanted to see the wounded. He had every right to ask for this and she would not have done any differently if their places had been reversed. For one second she realised that Glorfindel did not interrupt her thoughts with an angry reply and then she opened her eyes to see that the ancient elf was calmly looking at her.

"I am sorry, this was inappropriate" she said almost gently. "Of course you may see them but I must request you leave your weapons here."

"You are still young, Thranduiliell" Glorfindel said softly. "May I require why it is necessary to leave my weapons?"

"The platform with the wounded only serves place for three more people next to the assigned healer. I do not trust you, Lord Glorfindel. You have close bonds with the Noldor and the Noldor tried to kill my father and injured my brother severely. I have no guarantee you will not try to kill me as soon as you have the opportunity. I would rather you do not stand in my back with weapons to your hands" she explained and cocked her head to the side while she did so.

"Fair enough." Glorfindel knew all too well how much the wood elves distrusted foreigners. Especially since the _incident_. Sadly enough their distrust had proven to be righteous. He knew if he did not want to cause a war he had to be extremely careful for one wrong word could get him and his soldiers killed. He looked upon Eyaenne, the woodland Princess. All clad in brown leather armour and in practical robust clothes of dark greenish colours. A small twig was entwined in her dark curls just above her pointy ear. She bore her weapons with pride and her hard yet beautiful face betrayed that she had seen many horrors of the world, but her silver eyes also betrayed her sense for humour.

"Eat before I take you to your wounded" she ordered him. "Roewen, bring him to me as soon as he has finished." With that the Princess turned and jumped onto lower branches with the grace only a wood elf could possibly master.

Eyaenne showed Glorfindel to the wounded and the elf could see that the Noldor were indeed well cared for. He asked for the twins for these two were the only ones who were absent. Elrohir was awake when they arrived on the other platform.

"Glorfindel!", he yelled, carefully lifting Elladan's head out of his lap before jumping to his feet.

"Elrohir! Are you all right?"

"Yes, yes I am. And Elladan is getting better, too. His fever has broken a couple of hours ago." Elrohir was unable to keep his eyes fixed on his mentor but instead marvelled Eyaenne's beauty. "Thank you, for saving us, Princess!" he seized the opportunity to speak to her.

"You have said so before" the elleth replied sarcastically. Glorfindel had to stop himself to not yell at her. If she had been a Noldor, he would not have hesitated to do so. He felt the tiring pull he always felt then dealing with Thranduil and – apparently – his precious children. They had the tendency to be annoyingly sarcastic and ironic and they understood it perfectly to irritate him without being overly undiplomatic. Maybe the degree of irritation they caused him was so high only because these weapons usually were his own, but he did not even try to use them against the wood elves who had perfected this skill.

The distrust lay in the air like a thickening liquid and seemed to take him his breath. The silence which spread was uncomfortable.

Eyaenne who had been shifting uncomfortably under Elrohir's stare, opened her mouth to say something. She never got the chance to.

An elf suddenly appeared on a near branch. He held onto it with on hand, his bow tightly clutched in the other while he leant forward as far as possible to whisper something in Eyaenne's direction. He used the old tongue of the wood elves which made it impossible for Glorfindel to understand. However he saw how Eyaenne suddenly straightened and how her body went rigid, a spark of alarm entering her silver eyes. With a movement so quick Glorfindel nearly missed it she took her bow from her back, arrow notched.

She calmly asked for more information which she seemed to get, for her next words were sharp orders, before she jumped off the platform. The other elf rose his hand to his mouth and the chirping of a bird rung through the forest in a distinctive song. In the next moment the trees suddenly groaned silently as they shifted their branches. Glorfindel nearly fell forward, stumbling to find his footing on the platform which had moved underneath him. A second later all movement had stilled but the air in the forest seemed different, seemed darker. Even though Glorfindel was not a wood elf he felt the anger of the trees surrounding them.

"Get your weapons, Elrohir! I think we are being attacked!" he ordered sharply, already trying to get back to the platform where he knew his own armour and weapons.

"What about Elladan?" Elrohir asked worriedly glancing down at his twin.

"The trees won't let anyone come close to him, I am sure of it. And the wood elves would not leave this position unprotected" Glorfindel reasoned.

Elrohir sped up to put his armour on and to get his weapons. His mentor had left, so he carefully made his way down to the ground. For one second he stood still, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. He was searching for a sound which told him where to go. And he found it. Distinct and far away, an odd screeching sound ringing through the rustling of the trees.

He gripped his weapon tighter and run in the forest. It only took him minutes to find the source of the sound. He stopped instantly for nothing could have prepared him to see the giant body of spider. A massive spider, bigger than himself, bigger than a troll! He stood there frozen and could not convince his body to move. He did not really see how arrows flew on the animal, piercing its eyes. The pain only made it angrier and the screeching got louder and louder. It stormed into Elrohir's direction, somehow able to sense him. Only seconds before his body was sliced with the sharp weapons on the legs of the spider, something dropped to the forest floor behind it. Someone. Eyaenne, her curls flying through the air and her daggers only a fade glow in the air, barely visible. She thought vigilantly and skilfully. Everyone who looked at her would see her father in the way she moved, in the way she ducked to avoid injury, the way she jumped to the side and stepped backwards, the way she suddenly threw herself forward to imbed her daggers in the vulnerable belly of the giant beast, before getting out of its reach once more. Minutes passed and Eyaenne's breath was soon the only thing heard under the trees.

"Elrohir!" she yelled, not able to hide her concern. She even forgot his title and her eyes shone bright. She stopped before him, positioning her hand carefully on his shoulder, her daggers in her other hand. Elrohir looked in her silver eyes and suddenly felt how his heart began beating again, hard and painfully, against his ribcage.

Without thinking he leant forward and his lips met hers, soft and warm. She tasted like dark honey or like sunrays on gras.

He slowly pulled back. Her eyes sought his.

"Why?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Tears fell from her eyes and Elrohir did not understand the pain which was written so clearly in her features. She lifted her hands and pressed them against her chest. Suddenly, something red appeared between her fingers and blood run over her skin. Her body went limp and she fell down, a deep wound in her torso. Blood coloured her clothes dark and built a pool underneath her body. She started coughing as the liquid entered her lungs and took away her breath. With shock Elrohir saw the smaller spider. The spider which had torn a hole in Eyaenne's chest and was now clicking with her fangs.

"Why …" Eyaenne asked again, looking at the Noldor accusingly, before her vision blurred in red and then faded into darkness.

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><p><strong>Please Review! <strong>

**Thanks to: Sadie Sil, Badass Archer Daughter, SaphiralovesTolkien, gginsc, Luin, ElvishJedi and Guest for their Reviews! You guys made my day :D**


	5. 5: Prisoners of a Prince

**Juhuu! Finally, Legolas makes an appearance, even though I guess it might be a bit different of what you guys expected :D I finally managed to find the most comfortable way how to replie to your Reviews as well.**

**Oh, yeah btw Toraach informed me that i actually got Alcanors Age wrong than I said he was like about a thousand years old and yet still a child. Elves are fully grown by the Age of 100. I hope you forgive me this, but I will not Change it for I find my solution quite Fitting for my Story.**

**This is my next chapter and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Have fun!**

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><p>Glorfindel stood with those of his soldiers who had been fit enough to join him in the fight against those giant spiders. Even now the elven lord felt the fear he had felt upon seeing those beasts for the first time. He was an experienced warrior and he had always been proud to say that he did not hesitate to do what must be done. But he had frozen. He had seen the spider and had frozen in fear. Had it not been for some wood elves dropping out of the trees, he would be dead right now. And half of his patrol. Maybe all of his patrol. He marvelled the bravery of those idiotic, thick headed wood elves! And their skill.<p>

His clothes were covered in dark, greenish blood and mud and his hair looked no different. After he had overcome his shock he had killed several of those creatures. He was uninjured, as well as the rest of his soldiers. Thanks to the wood elves who did not allow thus to happen.

The battle had ended hours ago, yet Elrohir was still missing. Glorfindel began to worry.

The next moment he heard sounds. Someone was speeding through the trees and made no attempt to silence his movement.

In a flash of silvery hair and brownish and greenish clothes, Alcanor appeared. Leaves stuck to his armour and a bit of dirt had found its place too. Glorfindel turned to him to tell the Crown Prince of his worry for Elrohir, but stopped as soon as he saw the elf. Alcanor was livid. His eyes burned with hatred and he clenched and unclenched his fists as if he had a hard time controlling his temper.

"You!" be breathed heavily, barely able to pronounce this word for the anger vibrated in his voice. His chest was heaving with his laboured breath. "Will die – for what you have done!"

"What happened?" Glorfindel asked carefully. The Crown Prince would not make them responsible for the spider attack, would he?

"Don't pretend you don't know what happened!" the elf said sharply and icy cold. "That was your purpose all along, wasn't it? To enter Greenwood and to kill whoever of my family you could find! After your attempt to murder my father or me had failed!" Tears streamed now over his fair features.

"I will kill you for this!" Alcanor repeated through his tears and Glorfindel paled as he finally understood what had happened.

He was unable to speak, unable to try to tell Alcanor that they had never planned such a thing. Even if he had been able to, Alcanor would never have believed him and he had no reason to. She died. The beautiful young elleth who had just been speaking to him hours ago, annoying him, meeting his gaze with confidence, was dead.

"Princess Eyaenne" Glorfindel breathed shocked and pale.

"Don't you DARE SAY HER NAME!" Alcanor spun around screaming. He wavered. The strong war leader, the royal warrior with so much pride, nearly stumbled had not Roewen come to his side and steadied him.

"Lock them up. I do not wish to see them" Alcanor said silently and gestured towards the Noldor. "I will be with my sister." With that he turned around and slowly made his way to one of the trees, tears still adoring his face like diamonds. His shoulders slumped and his step tired.

This time the wood elves were cruel in the way they forced the Noldor and Glorfindel forward. They took their weapons and their armour. Nothing could be read in their faces but in their eyes shone the same anger and pain he had seen in Alcanor's. They bound their hands and their eyes, making sure that they would not be able to see anything at all before leading them through the forest to a cave in the side of a massive bolder. The wood elves usually used this place to secure their provisions and to keep them dry. Sometimes it served as a hospital wing as well. But this time they used it as a prison and they closed the heavy wooden doors with the metal bars behind them. Glorfindel stumbled into the dark for he had gotten shoved through the door ungently.

He wanted to become angry but his mind kept showing him the picture of a young elven maiden with long, dark curly hair and silver eyes and all his anger vanished.

"Glorfindel!" A yell rang through the small cell.

Elrohir jumped to his feet, running towards his mentor. His lip was split and swollen, his left eye was black and the tunic over his shoulder was wet with cold blood. Twigs stuck in his messy hair and in his orbs burned with fear.

"Elrohir!" Glorfindel recognised, momentarily relieved. "What happened to you? Did Alcanor do this to you?"

"What? No! It was this bloody spider! Tell me: How is Eyaenne?"

Glorfindel just looked at him sadly, before solemnly shaking his head.

"No!" Elrohir breathed, stumbling backwards his eyes wide with shock and pain. "It is my fault, all my fault!" His words were nothing more than a whisper in the air.

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><p>The door opened and crashed loudly in the opposite wall revealing an escort of wood elves. Bows in their hands and arrows notched they waited for the Noldor to come out of the storage room in which they had been sitting for hours.<p>

Alcanor stood several feet away, his face a cold mask which did not show any of his emotions, but his silver eyes were a thunderstorm of anger and pain. He did not say a word but turned away wordlessly and the woodelves made the Noldor follow him quickly. After a few minutes more elves joined the group, bearing stretchers occupied by the injured remains of Glorfindel's patrol.

Suddenly Alcanor stopped dead in his track before hurrying back the way they had come. Glorfindel saw the sorrow suddenly appearing in the faces of the wood elves and knew the elves who were carrying Eyaenne's body must have joined. One of the soldiers raised his voice and his clear sad song filled the air. The trees shifted as if they joined int0 the lament, their leaves rustling in distress. Glorfindel tried to turn to see Eyaenne, but the Princess was out of his sight.

They walked for hours and all Glorfindel could think about was how he was supposed to save the lives of his patrol and how he could possibly prevent a war. He had asked Elrohir what had happened but the young elf had been unable to give him an answer no matter how insistently he asked. The problem was that Glorfindel had no idea how he could possibly convince Greenwood to not go to war! Bloody hell, they had every reason to and from their perspective, it really looked like Imladis was attacking them directly, aiming for the very heart of this great kingdom!

Suddenly Glorfindel realised that Alcanor was staring at him coldly. When did the Prince return? Why was he not with his sister's body? He did not strike him as a person who would overcome his grieve quickly, nor silently. A thought shot through his brain, hot and intense and gave him a faint shimmer of hope: She was not yet dead. She was still hanging on, the healers still battling for her life. The healers and soldiers carrying her would have taken a quicker route to get her to their destination without getting slowed down by their prisoners. While Alcanor prayed his sister would survive, as Crown Prince it was his duty to see his prisoners secured. He was anxious to be with his sister but he could not leave. He hoped, hoped for this honest elf in front of him and all the people of Greenwood that the Princess would live. But his hope did not blind him for the fact that Alcanor was still going to kill them. The Crown Prince had already sentenced them to death, all he had to do was to officially repeat this sentence. They would die in front of a crowd and he could not blame them. It would have been so much easier if he could be angry and disrespectful!

He carefully looked around, but noticed quickly that they would not be able to escape while being guarded as heavily as they were. Also some of his people were still injured. The wood elves were experienced warriors, their arrows precise and quick and the trees of Greenwood would not assist Glorfindel either but would betray him to their beloved Silvan and the Sindar they had accepted as their family.

From one second to the other, something drastically changed. Wind rustled through the leaves of the trees and even the Noldor felt that the forest had stopped its lament. The wood elves instinctively pulled their weapons and some made to leap in the boughs of the trees before they relaxed slightly.

Alcanor on the opposite tensed. He had not drawn his weapon but an odd emotion was now displayed clearly upon his handsome features. He ran forward, jumped on a big boulder and his searching eyes roamed the darkness underneath the closer trees.

An elfling appeared above their heads, jumping silently to the ground. Golden hair was flying behind him as he ran towards the Crown Prince. Alcanor jumped down the rock and in the next moment the elfling crashed into him only to be held in a tight embrace. The ellon bend down to kiss the boys head and his hands soothingly stroke the long hair.

"The trees are angry! Why are they angry? They are sad, so sad! It hurts! It burns in my chest, burns in my heart, burns in my head, makes me want to scream. The trees are helpless, how can they be helpless. They are angry, so angry, I feel their anger upon my skin like the hot touch of flames' tongue. Please make it stop! Make it stop! I cannot endure their emotions! So sad! My heart is heavy as stone, my blood boiling, yet it feels as if it was frozen to ice. It hurts! Please make it stop! Make their anger stop! Please!" the boys muffled voice cried silently into the leather armour of the Greenwood Prince. His voice trembled and the words seemed heavy on his tongue, as if he was repeating an old poetry of ancient times.

"Tithen-las!" Alcanor soothed, kneeling down, without breaking the embrace. _Little leaf_. Tears stung in his silver eyes. He opened the mouth to explain the overwhelming feelings the young wood elf was receiving from the trees, yet the words stuck in his throat and all he could manage was to glare at Glorfindel -and the Noldor who stared at him in shock - accusingly and pained. Finally Alcanor tore the elfling away from his chest, placing his hands carefully on the young ones shoulders. Considering his height the child could not be older than the equivalent to an 8 year old adan. Tears were wet upon his cheeks and his clear blue eyes were reddened. His hair was gold in the sun and he bore a distinctive resemblance to the Crown Prince before him. He was clad in brown trousers and a simple dark green shirt. However the stitching around his neckline showed he was a member of the Royal Family. Alcanor spoke carefully with the elfling, before lifting him up and settling his weight on his hip. Short arms snuck around his neck. The Crown Prince placed his hand carefully on the small of the child's back, rubbing calming circles, before nodding towards the elves who had stopped and starting walking again.

Glorfindel could not tore his gaze away of the young Prince carrying the child. Alcanor was a father? Again he felt how an icy hand clasped after his heart. He did not know why this revelation shocked him so much, but seeing the Greenwood Prince caring for his son unable to explain what had happened send a shiver of guilt through his entire body, even though he had done nothing to truly cause the situation.

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><p>Alcanor held Legolas tight against his chest. His precious brother was so distressed that he could barely reach him through the muttered words which spilled over the young ones lips. At least, Legolas had stopped shivering after he had ordered the trees with a sharp glare to finally SHUT UP! Now he was cuddling closer to him. Alcanor turned his head and frowned as he realised how the Leader of the Noldor stared at his brother and him. Unease spread through his chest: He would not allow Legolas to get harmed, not by them! They were responsible for so much pain!<p>

Legolas fingers clutched his armour and he hid his face in the crock between neck and shoulder, but he seemed to calm down.

It took them only minutes to arrive on the big clearing In the middle of the forest. The trees which were forming a protective wall around this sacred place moved their branches to create a pass way in the thick wall. Sand covered the hard earth and made it impossible for any plants to grow.

Falin came running towards him, anxiousness written clearly on his features.

"Alcanor! I am sorry! Tithen-las he – he ran away, I am sorry Alcanor I should have paid more attention but –"

"I got him, muindor" Alcanor answered but his voice was shallow and nothing more than a soft whisper. _Brother_.

Elladan's eyes focussed on the new elf and he felt how the Vanyar next to him shifted. His mentor had been by his side the entire time, ready to aid him if his body weakened. He had beaten the orc poison in his system but still felt a bit giddy at times. His arm was throbbing with each step, but determination made him walk on. Elrohir had not spoken to him since he had joined the uninjured part of the patrol. It had been the Vanyar who had explained him why they had suddenly found themselves in the position of prisoners. Worried as he was Elladan had tried to speak with his twin who was clearly hiding something but Elrohir had just continued to stare ahead emotionlessly, refusing to react in any way. Finally Elladan had settled for opening his mind wide and offer silent comfort for Elrohir, not expecting an answer.

Elladan noticed the long, pale silverblond hair and the silver eyes but his foggy mind did not come to any conclusions as to who this elf might be. Instead, Glorfindel's brow furrowed. He had recognised Falin as Thranduil's youngest son, not needing Alcanor's use of the term _muindor_. He, too, had the same rare unusually bright silver eye colour as Alcanor and in contrary to the Crown Prince he had inherited his father's hair colour. Why were all the king's children positioned here?

"What happened?" Falin asked as suspicion entered his silver orbs.

"Tithen-las?" Alcanor asked softly, unconsciously using Legolas' nickname as he often did. _Little leaf_. Legolas raised his head and the elder elf forced a soft smile on his lips then he met the blue orbs. "I have to speak to Falin, tithen-las, but I won't be long, I promise. You mustn't speak with these elves, do you understand that? They are dangerous and I cannot bear to see you harmed. Do you understand me, penneth? You _must not_ go close to them, this is very important!"

"Why are they dangerous?"

The Crown Prince sighed and kneeled in the dirt in front of his brother, gently taking the small hands in his and stroking Legolas' palms, more to calm himself then for anything else.

"They have … one of them has hurt Eyaenne. He has hurt her very badly. That is why the trees were angry, too. They have committed a crime and they will be punished accordingly."

"What will you do with them?"

"They did something very bad, penneth, and Eyaenne is in a lot of pain. The law allows me to kill them." _Little one._

Falin had frozen in his movements, staring at his eldest brother with empty eyes, before he turned with unease, his silver eyes darting around in search for his wounded sister.

"But why do you punish them all? Did you not say only one of them hurt Eyae?" Only curiosity sparked in the innocent question of the intelligent youngster. _He does not appear to be shocked at all that his Adar wants to kill us, _Glorfindel thought darkly, wondering what happened behind the foliage of the wood of Greenwood the Great.

Alcanor stared down for one second, before yet again meeting the innocent gaze.

"Do you remember then you knocked off daeradar's vase? The one I liked so much?" _Grand-father._

The elfling nodded.

"I did punish you, did I not?"

"Yes, but I knocked it off!"

"That is true. But do you recall that I punished Arahen as well?"

Again, the elfling nodded.

"What did I say why I punished him?"

For one moment Legolas seemed to think, before a smile suddenly split his face and he blurted: "Because even though he did not knock it off the table, he was just as responsible: He was chasing me playing tag in the palace, however, he knew we were not allowed to run in the palace. I would not have knocked the vase off if he had not chased me."

"Exactly! And that is why these Noldor and the Vanyar will all be punished. Only one of them harmed Eyae, but the others did not stop him. They had even come to Greenwood in order to harm her, even though they are not usually allowed to enter our woods. They had known he wanted to harm her. That is why I will kill them all!" The last sentence was filled with wrath and a dark venom and the elfling tore himself away from Alcanor's touch and retreated with fear in his eyes. He stumbled as he fled from his older brother who had obviously scared him deeply. Alcanor frowned and paled, remaining on his knees and staring at his little brother. Legolas had never before been frightened of him. Never before. It was like a dagger had been thriven into his chest and someone was turning it painfully.

Falin had scooped Legolas into his arms and was holding him protectively while glaring at Alcanor.

"I am sorry, I did not mean to say this! Las! Please, I did not wish to frighten you!" The Crown Prince finally found his voice and he heard himself begging without being ashamed. Legolas sniffled, but he nodded and then Falin put him back on his feet he walked up to Alcanor and kissed him on the cheek before hugging him tightly.

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><p><strong>Please Review!<strong>

**Thanks to those of you who have reviewed!**

**gginsc: Well, if he was thinking with his head and not with something else ...**

**Badass Archer Daughter: Well, yeah, that is excatly what Eyaenne is thinking. All she knows was he kissed her, she lowered her guard and closed her eyes and the next thing she know is an excrutinating pain exploding in her chest. She and Elrohir would actually be a really nice couple, but I guess she will not be trusting him so easily anymore. :) Well, let's see what happens. If they do end up as a couple (so far not planned, but when I do not actually plan but more got a rough idea of what I am doing) I might use that conversation of yours ;)**

**SaphiralovesTolkien: Yeah, kissing her in the middle of a battle is like the worst idea he could have come up with :) About that war ... yeah, Thranduil will not be very pleased, I guess. About Legolas: He will be playing a more important role in the next chapter. Where will be another jump in time before I can beginn with my ACTUAL Story with Legolas ending up in Elronds healing ward as I said in the describtion of the Story. So where is a lot more Legolas coming up. What has happend so far has happened so everyone knows the history of the relationship between those two realms and why they are on a brick of / in the middle of a war**

**Ireland2112: Thank you very much for your review and your support. I am glad you like this story, mate :)**

**Luin: Well, she is not dead yet, but who knows ... If you want to know, read my other fanfiction (Return to Mirkwood) and you will find out, it is only short, like 5000 words or so**

**Sadie Sil: Thank you so much! As I said before, your support is very important to me. I love your stories and I feel honored that you like mine as well**

**Toraach: Wow, well ... I did not know that. That really s interesting. For the sake of my story though, I might ignore this fact, as I want to Alcanor have on one hand side quite some experience, but on the other to still be a child. I hope you do not mind that I bend the age of the elves a bit for this case, but it is very good to know how it is really like. I just did not know and therefore made something up myself. And thanks for the correction, mate. I hope you like the story even with those little mistakes ;)**


	6. 6: Never forget who I am

**Hey guys! Have all of you seen the Hobbit? I loved that movie! Oh. My. God! Thranduil is so awesome, I love him! And Elrond and Galadriel! awwh! I loved it, I really wonna see it again! What did you guys think? And if you have not seen the movie, I highly recommend you grap some Money and go to the nearest Cinema! If you wonna discuss anything abou the movie, pease PM me! I loved that movie!**

**Okay, enough about the Hobbit. Here you go, another chapter for you. This is longer than usually, I hope you enjoy it :)**

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><p>Glorfindel watched the two Royal Princes leaving the clearing, leaving Alcanor's son, Tithenlas, in Roewen's care. Wood elves were standing around the Noldor in a circle, bows in their hands and only waiting for them to make a false move.<p>

Tithenlas slowly and cautiously walked closer to the Noldor. Glorfindel noted that all of his soldiers ended their whispered conversations and instead focused on the elfling.

Elladan nudged Elrohir and joked: "Alcanor already has a son and he is younger than us. We have not even managed to get a beautiful woman. Maybe we should ask him for some tips? I suddenly feel so unwanted!"

To his relief, a small smile appeared on Elrohir's lips, even though the sad expression remained.

"I have already met the most beautiful elleth in entire middle-earth, Elladan. And instead of protecting her, I caused her to get severely harmed, maybe even killed. But even if I had not done that, I doubt Alcanor would give me any tips how to court his sister!"

The other twin looked at him in shock, before drawing him into a hug and holding him tightly.

Meanwhile Tithenlas had stopped several meters away from them. Roewen eyed the young Prince closely. Glorfindel focused on the elfling without lifting his hand which lay on Elrohir's shaking frame. Tithenlas cocked his head to one side and openly stared at him.

"Have you really killed a balrog?"

The question came so unexpectedly, Glorfindel blinked several times before it sunk in. He opened his mouth to answer, but the young one was quicker.

"You do not have to talk about it if it brings you pain. I am sorry, I should not have asked. I knew it would bring you pain: Everyone died. It brings me pain to remember … " he hesitated and Glorfindel saw how a shadow of deep grief clouding the blue eyes, grief, too powerful to be in the eyes of an elfling so young. "To remember people who have died." Tithenlas finished slowly. His blue eyes cast to the ground, his shoulders slumped in misery he made to turn around and leave.

"Yes, I have."

Tithenlas flinched, but as he turned an eager smile was on his lips and the innocence he was radiating made Glorfindel chuckle softly. Glorfindel expected a thousand questions to be asked now. His experience told him that elflings could be extremely annoying and wanted to know every single detail: How big was the balrog? Had he been afraid? Was the balrog on fire? Did it speak? Where did they fight? How long took it to kill the balrog? Has he himself gotten injured? What clothes had he been wearing? What sort of weapon had he used? Did he like chocolate? What …

Tithenlas sat down on the sandy ground, wrapping his arms around his knees and seemed to think. Finally he opened his mouth and asked one single question:

"How?"

Glorfindel blinked. Against his will he smiled fondly.

"I killed him with my sword. However, I got killed as well. The balrog dragged me with him as he fell. I died in his flames." Once again he felt the searing pain of hot flames licking his tender skin and he quickly tore himself out of his nightmares.

"But you live. Therefore, there must be something after death and the halls of Mandos truly do exist" the elfling concluded, a sad smile making him look a lot older. "Did you kill Eyae?" His voice had not changed, but Glorfindel felt the words ringing in his head, making his limps heavy, his eyesight dizzy and his throat as hot as if the balrog's flames were once again burning him. How did this elf manage to make him so uncertain? Something in his soul screamed every time he was speaking with a member of this blasted Royal Family of Greenwood! Screamed and told him it should not be this way, they should not be as distanced. They should be close to him. They should be important to him as friends. Yet, mistrust weighed heavily upon their interactions.

"Did you kill her?" Kill. The elfling spoke of death and his blue eyes betrayed that he actually understood what he was saying! _Death_ was nothing elves understood. Men learned it easily enough, dwarves learned it as well as hobbits or any other race. But elves, the _immortal _race, did not understand death so easily. Children did not know what this words truly meant, nor did many adults. Only elves who had seen another elf getting killed truly learnt the word's meaning. _Who had seen another elf getting killed …_

"No, I did not –" Glorfindel started, but Tithenlas interrupted him.

"I was not talking to you, Lord Glorfindel. I know you did not kill her. I was talking to Lord Elrohir."

Elrohir's head snapped up to look at the elfling his eyes wide with fear. How could Alcanor's son seem so mature, if he in fact was only a few decades old? Elrohir started shaking, but his eyes seemed to be fixed on the calm elfling. Elladan carefully touched his twin's arm, shaking him gently. Elrohir flinched before he visibly forced himself to breathe.

"Yes", he answered heavily, his voice horse. "Yes I did. And I am sorry."

With his words, Tithenlas began shaking and tears began rolling down his cheeks. He jumped to his feet and fled. Roewen dropped the bread she had just taken out to eat and ran after the young Prince.

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><p>Glorfindel woke slowly. His head was pounding and his entire body ached. Looking around he realised it was early morning. He had slept through the entire night. The sun was crawling through the trees, warming the sandy ground of the clearing. Elladan and Elrohir sat together, holding onto each other tightly. Elladan stared into thin air. He seemed defeated and hopeless. Elrohir in contrast had his hands curled up in fists, anger and guilt radiating from his tense body. Instantly, the balrog slayer felt how his instinct kicked in to protect them: He had known the two for all their lives. They were very dear to him, closer to his heart then many would have guessed. They seemed to be only a shadow of their usual selves. No cheeky smile, no mischievous glint in their eyes.<p>

Before Glorfindel could jump on his feet and hurry towards the two elves, a movement caught his eye. Tithenlas. The little elf was cautiously coming towards them. His blue eyes were puffy and red-rimmed and the traditional children plait in his hair had slipped out of the leather strap and was slowly coming apart. Almost immediately, Glorfindel's protective instincts shifted. The twins were adults, well capable of helping themselves. This young elfling on the contrary was a child, a child who obviously needed condolences. Glorfindel found himself at loss for what could he possibly say to console an elfling who had just lost his aunt because of one of his men?

"Tithenlas" he asked gently and the young elf flinched violently. He responded to Glorfindel's inquiry by calmly staring at him and then asking: "Why did you kill her? Why do you hate us so much? What did we do to make the Noldor hate us? Will you try to kill my Ada too? And me?"

Elladan had listened to desperate words and felt his sadness drowning him. However he forced a sad smile on his face than he answered the question without slipping out of the loose hug he was sharing with his guilt-stricken twin.

"We do not hate you, Tithenlas! And we will not try to kill you or your Ada. We did not want to kill Eyaenne either. It was an accident and we deeply regret what has happened. It pains us to think about your loss, for Princess Eyaenne is a beautiful and gentle elleth. I hope she will survive the injuries she has suffered due to our misbehaviour. As far as we know, she is not dead yet and we pray to the Valar that she may stay Middle-earth for many years longer before having to go to Mandos' halls or sailing into the west. We are sorry, Tithenlas, incredible sorry. But no words can heal the wounds we have caused." By the end of his speech he felt how wet tears were slowly making their way down his cheek, while his brother shook with silent, self-directed anger, guilt and pain next to him. He did not want to die, but his spirit was saddened and his brother's dark mood was affecting him as well. He had given up, knowing that nothing he said would change Alcanor's mind, no matter how true his words might be.

"You are filled with sadness, Lord Elrohir, however your brother is filled with rage. You are the night craving for light and hope to fill your heart, while your brother loses himself in self-loathing unwilling to see the stars shining brightly." Once again the elfling spoke with words that did not seem to mirror his young years, but seemed ancient and wise beyond all boundaries. A smile appeared on the child's face, a smile so true and clear that it warmed Glorfindel's heart. "Yet I sense your words speak truth: You did not kill Eyae and you regret her injuries which were not caused by your hand. I will tell my Ada and he will let you go! My Ada can do anything he wants and if I ask him, he will believe my words!" With that, Tithenlas grinned widely a fire burning powerful behind his blue eyes as he turned abruptly and ran away, his step dancing and jumping.

Glorfindel stared after the young elf and suddenly began laughing sourly. He just imagined Tithenlas telling his Ada he should let them go. He would have loved to see Alcanor's face!

The balrog slayer choked on his laugh when he actually saw Alcanor's face! The Crown Prince was walking towards him, the child clutching his hand tightly, laughing and jumping up and down. There was a frown upon Alcanor's brow and he watched his son intently as Tithenlas kept talking happily. Apparently Alcanor had re-plait his son's children plait because his hair was brushed and the plait lay thoroughly on top of his hair. What astonished Glorfindel was the fact that the Crown Prince seemed to actually consider what his son was telling him! As they came closer, the silver eyes left Tithenlas and instead met the counterparts of the ancient Lord. Unable to read Alcanor, Glorfindel just stood up and stood straight.

Alcanor asked something and Tithenlas answered but both of them were now purposely using a heavy woodland accent which the balrog slayer was unable to understand. Tithenlas stumbled over a word, repeating it to try to pronounce it correctly. His face was one of utmost concentration. For the first time Glorfindel saw how a true, genuine smile tugging at Alcanor's lips as he bend down and silently pronounced the word correctly, urging his son to repeat it after him.

Then the handsome elven warrior rose his eyes and his face became once more the cold, unemotional mask of indifference. More than ever he looked like Thranduil.

"Tithen-Las has told me you were innocent of the crime to … _hurt_ … my sister" Alcanor said, unaware of the fact that his continued use of Legolas' nickname made the Noldor think that his baby brother was his son. He had caught Legolas as he was running towards the horses. The young one had been planning to ask some elven warriors to take him back to the palace so he could speak with his Ada, King Thranduil. Of course Alcanor had asked the elfling what was so important that it could not wait till they all returned to the palace and Legolas had willingly told him that – in his eyes – the Noldor were innocent. Alcanor found this hard to believe: He himself had found his sister, unconscious, bleeding, with a deep wound in her torso and her blood leaving her weakened body. Only Alcanor's skill as a healer had saved his sister of dying that very moment in a puddle of blood on the forest floor. He still did not know if he had been in time, if he had done enough. Eyaenne had already been taken to the palace where Greenwood's best healers would at this very moment be tending to her wounds. It had been Alcanor who had picked up the elven dagger where it lay on the grass beside his sister. An elven dagger, covered in blood and with the emblem of Imladris crafted into its hilt. And one of his patrols had come back with Lord Elrohir of Rivendell, whom they had found lost under the trees, elven blood covering his sleeves and one dagger short.

Yet Legolas had proven in the past that sometimes he sensed things which turned out to be true. Things he could not possibly know. Maybe the Noldor were innocent, no matter how unbelievable that was. The problem with Legolas instinctive skill was that he was still an elfling. An elfling who slew imaginary dragons and balrogs, an elfling who could forget the world around him when he was talking to his beloved trees or wandering in the gardens of the palace. How do you know whether Legolas sensed the Noldor were innocent or if his childish mind just refused to accept such cruelty from his own kind? In his point of view, only orcs and spiders could be evil enough to hurt an elf.

Glorfindel's eyes widened as he realised that Crown Prince Alcanor, against all hope, seemed to consider his son's words. His eyes darted towards the twins, glaring pleadingly at Elrohir, who had risen his head to listen to the wood elf's words. The Balrog slayer had no idea what had happened between the twin and the Princess.

"I am responsible for her death" Elrohir snapped angrily. Alcanor flinched violently and Tithenlas clung closer to the warrior's form.

"I found your dagger next to her, covered in her blood. And the only words I heard her speak were these: _Lord Elrohir … betrayed me_. Am I correct in assuming you drove your dagger through her torso?" Alcanor asked calmly, a barrier slammed down behind his eyes to hide his emotions. Glorfindel paled as he heard these words.

"I did not. However, I am still responsible for what happened."

"What happened?" The elven Prince almost sounded bored, as if this things were not affecting him at all.

"I … distracted her. I had not seen the smaller spider which was closing in, nor did she. It … It tore a hole into her. There was so much blood. I … For a moment I forgot I was alone with her. I told Elladan to take care of her, but of course, he wasn't there. So I left her, bleeding, while I went after the spider."

"Care to elaborate?"

Elrohir rose an eyebrow inquiringly, but he seemed defeated.

"How did you distract her and why?"

Elrohir shifted uncomfortable, tears suddenly in his eyes. He stared at the ground before taking a deep breath and rising his head.

"I kissed her."

Elladan and Glorfindel simultaneously gaped. As did the Noldor and Greenwood warriors who listened to the exchange. Alcanor stared.

"Come again?" he asked.

"I kissed her!"

A fist connected with his face. Elrohir stumbled back, doubled over covering his broken nose with both hands. Alcanor brutally kicked him in the gut.

"Don't you ever dare to touch my sister!" he hissed, grapping Tithenlas' hand and turning to leave. But instead Tithenlas bend down, crying violently. Surprised Alcanor stared down, paling. He squatted next to the distressed elfling but as he tried to touch him, Legolas crawled back. Legolas was so confused! He knew the elf of Imladris had not hurt his sister, he knew! He felt it with his entire being. Yet why would his brother punish Elrohir if he had not hurt his sister? His brother was nice, gentle and happy. He would never rise his hand against another elf unless they deserved it! Alcanor was good! Why did he hurt another elf? He was so confused! And Eyaenne, was she dead as the other elf said or was she alive as his brother had ensured him? He suddenly felt warm arms wrapping around his shaking frame and he rested his head against Alcanor's broad chest, crying and sobbing. His brother was good! He was warm and careful and he loved him. But why did Alcanor hit Elrohir if Elrohir had not done something wrong? And he felt that Elrohir had not!

"He didn't do it!" Legolas sobbed the only thing he knew for sure.

"He did not do what, Tithen-las?" his brother's warm voice asked gently.

"He did not hurt her" Legolas snuggled closer to Alcanor, his fingers entwining themselves into the long silver hair.

Alcanor stopped stroking the little one to glare at the Noldor. He sighed and changed into the heavy Silvan tongue.

"I believe you, Tithen-las. And I trust you. I will let them go, all right? But even so I have to punish them."

"But you will not kill them?"

"No, I won't" This time the Prince growled with displeasure.

"I love you, Al" Legolas murmured close to his ear. Alcanor rolled his eyes at the nickname he hated so much, but he just tightened his embrace a little bit more.

"I love you too, Legolas", he silently whispered back. "And now, what about you go and look for Falin? If you ask him nicely I am sure he will take you to the cook and will get some food, does that sound good?"

Legolas nodded and his eldest brother carefully helped him back on his feet before ushering him away.

He when turned back to the Noldor.

"Roewen, Galion!" he hissed sharply and nodded towards Elrohir. The two wood elves stepped forward and grabbed Elrohir by his shoulders. Elladan screamed, throwing himself at the wood elves, but the Greenwood soldiers who were guarding them suddenly pulled an arrow out of their quivers and notched them onto the strings of their bows, the pointy ends directed towards the small group of Noldor. Roewen knocked Elladan to the ground and dragged a struggling Elrohir with her. Elladan jumped back on his feet and wanted to attack the she-elf once more, but an arrow hitting the sand floor a mere inch away from his foot was warning enough.

"Please, Prince Alcanor. Don't do this! I will happily give my life, but let my company go! They will not return to Greenwood and never set foot into this forest again! Are you slaying your own kind?" Glorfindel stepped forward but he was held back by an arrowhead pointing at his face. He held his hands up, desperation written in his eyes.

Alcanor completely ignored Glorfindel's plea. He did not understand how an elf lord as mighty as the balrog slayer could crumble so quickly and had so little control over his emotions. If he had been in Glorfindel's position he would have tried to escape, yet the Lord seemed frightened enough by some guards standing nearby. How pathetic!

Elrohir was dragged before him. Roewen and Galion had a hard job to keep him still for the twin was kicking and screaming and fighting against their grip. They made sure he could not reach any of their weapons that were partly hidden on their persons.

Alcanor stepped forward, his hand searching for the dagger on his side. An elven dagger with the crest of Imladris crafted in its hilt. Elrohir's dagger. With his free hand he grabbed Elrohir's tunic and ripped it off the elf's slim form. He pressed his hand against pale, porcelain skin and felt Elrohir's heart beating underneath his fingers.

"Never forget who I am!" Alcanor threatened darkly, before rising the dagger and bringing it down.

* * *

><p>"Hir-nin!" Thranduil looked up from the paper he was reading. <em>My<em> _king_. His advisor, Lord Ganen, sounded as if he had been running the entire way to his office. The panting elf stood before him.

"Hir-nin! Princess Eyaenne has been wounded!" Judging by his voice the Princess was not just wounded, but standing at Mandos' doors, close to death.

"I am sure the healers do all they can" Thranduil said, all emotions hidden behind indifference. He scorned himself for he knew his voice sounded as if he was bored. He would not let any of the turmoil of emotion inside him show in his face or behaviour. However he felt his heart freezing inside his chest, beating slowly and sending a wave of pain through his body with each pulse. Thranduil forced himself to direct his eyes back to the paper in his hand, even though he could not truly see it.

"But hir-nin! Our Princess … she is dying!"

"Leave!" Thranduil ordered coldly but he felt how his control was slipping: his voice shook and his hand was slightly trembling.

Ganen hesitated, but finally followed his king's command, although reluctantly. As soon as the door closed behind the elf, Thranduil's hands suddenly clutched his shirt. The pain he felt was excruciating. He jumped on his feet, only to sway heavily. He _needed_ to get to his daughter! He limped over to the doorway, leaning heavily against the wood and taking deep breaths. For one moment he wanted to keep his control up, wanted give his people the impression of their emotionless king. But he couldn't. His daughter was dying. Without thinking he shed out of his outer robe, allowing himself to start running without the heavy fabric slowing him down. Had the healing ward always been so far away?

Finally he arrived at the great wooden doors. Soldiers were guarding the healing ward, heavily armed. They bowed their heads in respect; understanding written in their eyes as they saw their king coming to an abrupt stop. Thranduil nodded towards them. He opened the door and slipped silently into the room. As soon as he lifted his eyes and he saw his daughter torn body, all control faded like smoke and he ran to her, falling to his knees, unable to make a sound.

* * *

><p>Elrohir's high pitched scream filled the air as the dagger kissed his skin. Alcanor skilfully wielded the weapon and a second later he stepped back, breathing heavily. Blood covered Elrohir's chest, clearly revealing the five deep cuts. Two letters were written in his flesh: A and T.<p>

"Alcanor Thranduillion", Alcanor spat. "You will never forget me and you will bear these scars till the end of your miserable life, Elrondion. And know: If you return to Greenwood the Great or if you ever again touch anyone of my family, I will hunt you down! This is my promise for you. And what are a few cuts in exchange for your life? Be grateful, for I should have taken it from you!" He made a sharp hand gesture and Roewen and Ganion dragged the stunned elf back. Yes, his chest was burning like fire, but he had thought the Crown Prince he had liked so much so many years back would kill him at the spot. Nothing but disbelief and thankfulness filled his heart. Elladan promptly kneeled down next to him, ignoring the tears on his cheeks and instead trying to stop the heavy bleeding.

"Lord Glorfindel" Alcanor breathed, his chest rising and falling heavily. He stood there completely still, the dagger still clutched in his hand. He was not facing the elven lord but had his back halfway turned towards him.

Glorfindel looked up, before stepping closer to the elven Prince. He expected the warriors to hold his arms, but no one moved.

"You will let us go?" Glorfindel asked calmly.

Alcanor's jaw tightened, but he nodded sharply.

"King Thranduil will have my head for this", he murmured and Glorfindel could not stop himself of wondering why Alcanor would address his father in this term.

"Thank you" Glorfindel said, bowing his head.

"How could it come this far?" Alcanor asked silently, rising his eyes and Glorfindel was reminded of how young the elf in front of him was. "How could it come so far that we cannot trust our own kind? The darkness is closing in yet the race of elves is drifting apart. What have we done?"

Glorfindel could only shook his head.

"Do not return to Greenwood, Lord Glorfindel" Alcanor said and he said it with so much respect and sorrow that the ancient elven Lord almost stepped back. "I have always admired you, my Lord, but I will not hesitate to kill you should you return. Mistrust is running deep and hard to confute. I will let you go, this last time. Do not try us again! The wood elves will mistrust me for my decision and my father might throw me in his dungeon. I will not defy him or my people a second time. Yet I trust Tithen-las, who vouched for your innocence."

"I … admire you, Prince Alcanor. I have underestimated you. Forgive me, I see you are pure of heart. Is there any way how to restore relationships between Imladris and Greenwood?"

"I am honoured by your words, yet I do not trust them. In my ears they ring as lies. The Noldor are our enemies. For now. No one knows what the future might bring."

"Yet, maybe Sindar and Noldor could get along?"

"If I find a Sindar in this Realm who is willing to risk everything by speaking with you, I will let you know." Again a sarcastic smile was tugging on the Prince's lips.

"I was hoping to speak to a Greenwood Prince?"

"I am not Sinda, my Lord. I am perhereg." _Half-blood. _Alcanor used the term easily as if the word was not an insult but a title to be proud of. Glorfindel knew well enough that in Greenwood it was very uncommon for Silvans and Sindar to sire children together. Indeed, King Thranduil and Queen Luineth were the only proof of interracial marriages. Even though both races descended from the Teleri, their culture had changed a lot during the centuries.

"There is one last thing …" Alcanor began.

"Do it!" Glorfindel said, already opening his shirt. "Do it. Cut your initials in my flesh if that is what you have to do!"

Surprised Alcanor nodded and lifted his hand. Glorfindel noticed with amusement that the young elf did not lower his guard but in the contrary was expecting a trap. He set his jaw tight and waited for the pain to explode on his skin. He held still while the Crown Prince cut the two letters in his flesh. His eyes burned but he forced himself to not flinch away from the sharp blade. Seconds later, the two letters were carved in his right chest.

Alcanor slowly stepped away. Blue eyes met silver ones and the elven Prince nodded shortly, bowing his head slightly, before turning around and giving silent orders.

* * *

><p><strong> If you take the time to read my fanfiction, maybe you could take the one Minute to write a Review as well? It is highly appreciated. Thank you :D<strong>

A BIG THANKS TO MY BETA-READER _JAXZAN PRODITOR_! You were of so much help, so thank you very much!

**SaphiralovesTolkien: What will Thranduil say when he finds out Alcanor let the Noldor go? Thank you for your Support!**

**Toraach: Do you have siblings? Brothers can become quite protective over their sisters, believe me, I know. And in Alcanor's eyes, Elrohir did not just kiss his sister, but also used the opportunity to drive a dagger through her chest. I guess that is the Point he has more Problems with ;) **

**camilleCS: Please, ask as many questions as you like! They do help me a lot, so please, continue! Eyaenne is Young and she did a terrible mistake, a mistake she will never make again: Getting distracted in the middle of a battle. She felt attracted to Elrohir, but I guess, not anymore, though. :D No, not all of Thranduil's children are warriors. Not yet, that is. They will later raise arms as they know it helps their People a lot if they fight alongside them. They love their People and they feel it is their duty to protect them with anything they have. But that will come later, when Mirkwood becomes darker and struggles to hold its borders. Right now, no, not all of them are warriors. Alcanor would actually have preferred to be a healer. He was the one to take care of the wounds the Noldor had suffered and he was taking care of Eyaennes wounds at first as well. But as he is Crown Prince he was forced to pick up the role as a warrior. He is very talented and he fights as hard as he does so his siblings wont have to as well. Eyaenne is a warrior, Falin is actually a fighting instructor and therefore attends patrols as well to Keep himself sharp. So Falin is sort of a warrior, but more of a warrior-teacher. Arahen is a cartographist (that word is spelled wrong, but I hope you understand what I am trying to say. I don't know how to spell the word: He is travelling and drawing maps). Iarith is a teacher for Young children. I do not know what Daeros is yet, maybe you got an idea? I do not want him to be a Scholar or a politician. I do not know wether or not all this will be mentioned later on in the Story, but as you are interested, you are welcome to know it :) Thank you for your Support and please continue to ask questions!**

**Colin449: I am glad you do! Thank you very much for our Review! **

**Badass Archer Daughter: All of my chapter are around 3000 words Long and unlike you, I do update evry two weeks, mellon ;) This chapter is a bit longer, consider it a cchristmas gift :D**

**J. Salus: I am happy you enjoy reading it. Thank you for your Review and your Support! **


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